Threat of Dragons
by DagmarIceBlade
Summary: Irileth and Farengar disagree about how the dragon threat should be approached. (Written for the Skyrimkinkmeme.)


Originally written for the Skyrimkinkmeme. Gen!

Original prompt asked for a hot-blooded rivalry between Irileth and Farengar Secret-Fire, as the threat of dragons becomes more and more real.

* * *

"You would bring Whiterun and its Jarl in danger?" Irileth sneered at Farengar, her already angry-looking Dunmer face showing an even deeper furrowed brow.

This was the third argument they had this week alone. Irileth found the mage growing more and more dangerous to Balgruuf, whom she had sworn to protect. His latest plan to tackle the imminent threat of a dragon attack was one of the most outrageous she had heard in a long time. Coming from the otherwise careful and secluded mage, it was even doubtful he had his head on straight.

"You cannot defend against which you don't know," Farengar said.

"And what would you do? Leave Dragonsreach and make yourself a bait for one of those monsters?" He must have had too much mead yesterday.

"Just four guards, is all I'm asking."

"No. I lost two men already when one of those wretched things attacked the watchtower." Hakon and Viktor, two good men, burned alive. They had stood next to her as the dragon had blasted its breath at them – against which her Dunmer blood had protected her.

"Does the Jarl agree with you?" Farengar asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Irileth took a step towards the mage, her red eyes burning with anger at his insolence. She broadened her shoulders under the armour she wore, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "The Jarl trusts my judgment," she said, drawing out every word.

Her attempt at intimidation did not have its intended effect on the Nord, who stood equally tall as her, as he matched her fury with his own. "And so does he trust mine." He sighed theatrically. "I would have thought better of a Dunmer, to think so little of the value of knowledge. At least Jarl Balgruuf seems to understand that."

"The same who I am to protect, which is obviously a point you seem to miss."

Farengar made an inviting gesture to the dragonstone on his desk, books and notes spread out around it. "And in that, knowledge will be invaluable."

"As valuable as the men you're sure to lose over your stupid plan?" Irileth couldn't think of any guards she was willing to risk. She would not even ask them, it would be an insult to their loyalty to Whiterun and its Jarl.

"I may save yet a few of them, if I knew what to look for." Farengar hit his desk with his hand, an inkwell falling over, and ink spilling on one of his papers. With hurried movements, he picked up the inkwell and cursed.

Irileth shook her head. "You won't get an escort." Then she inched closer, the mage still holding the inkwell, dripping on the papers. With a low voice, she added: "And I will not allow you to leave Dragonsreach to go out on your own." She turned around and left.

* * *

The hall of Dragonsreach was quiet in the early morning, as the Dunmer housecarl entered. Proventus Avenicci was already up, papers spread before him on the long table, eating his breakfast while reading.

"Good morning, Irileth," he said, inclining his head.

"Good morning, Proventus. Reading your share of paperwork again?" Irileth sat next to him, pulling some bread off one of the loaves.

"Yes. Some reports on bandits around Rorikstead have been breaking in at night. Apparently they left the inn without any coin, two days ago."

Irileth grunted. "Damn thieves."

Proventus agreed and continued his reading of another one of the pieces before him.

She ate her breakfast in silence, looking around her. Something was bothering her, something seemed out of place. It wasn't Proventus, neither was it any of the maids who were sweeping the lower part of the hall. Balgruuf wasn't up yet – as usual he probably slept in.

Farengar… she threw a glance at the office where the mage worked. Papers were still spread across his table, the dragonstone even lay untouched. The door to his bedroom was open… Where was he?

"Have you seen Farengar today?" she asked Proventus, not taking her eyes off the empty bedroom, ready to stand up again.

Proventus shrugged. "Saw him early this morning. Think he went to Arcadia."

"Did he say anything?"

Proventus shook his head.

Going to Arcadia? Not very likely. Irileth got up, her eyes still not leaving the empty office of the mage. He wouldn't so openly defy her orders, would he? As she approached the office, more and more empty space showed up. The door to his side room was open, too.

"Farengar?" she said, when she stood in the opening. She quickly surveyed both rooms.

Nothing, and no answer, save Proventus' only somewhat interested voice. "Something up, Irileth?"

But Irileth did not answer, only ran up the stairs towards Jarl Balgruuf's room. Farengar _had_ openly defied her. And she had underestimated him, she never thought he would _actually_ go out. Damned Nord. She had to know if Balgruuf knew about this. She wanted to bring it up again to him anyway, and now was as good a time as any.

She knocked heavily on the door of the Jarl. It remained silent for a few seconds, so she knocked again.

Someone behind the door groaned. "Who is it?" the unmistakable voice of her Jarl said, incidentally in his gruffer mood of the day.

"Irileth."

"Oh, damn well, get in then."

Irileth pushed the door open, finding Balgruuf in simple shirt and trousers. "Up early, are you?" He washed his face with some cold water, his hair still an unkempt mess. "What's so important that it couldn't wait till I was done?"

"Sorry for the intrusion, my Jarl, but Farengar is not in his office."

Balgruuf grinned. "Angry, are we?" He proceeded to comb his hair.

Irileth scowled. She was not in the mood for games, though she realised her formal question probably betrayed her intentions. And she _was_ angry at that little worm, now posing a severe breach of security to the man standing before her.

"I hardly keep tabs on everyone around here."

That much was true, Irileth admitted. It was _her_ job to know. But Balgruuf kept silent longer than usual, and that was all the answer she needed. "When did you give him leave?" she asked.

Balgruuf raised one eyebrow. "Leave? I gave him no leave."

So, he didn't know anything about Farengar's departure? Then the mage hadn't consulted the Jarl before he went – defying _both_ their authority. "He is not in the hall," Irileth stated, crossing her arms. "Proventus said he went out."

"What is this about, Irileth?"

"You must have heard of his outrageous plans."

"And your heated discussions about that with him."

Of course, he would have heard. They hadn't exactly kept their discussions quiet. Irileth now wished she had. "I explicitly forbade him to go out, but it seems he has done so anyway."

Balgruuf grunted. "Check if he is still away, otherwise I will discuss this with him _and_ you later." He made a move to actually get dressed. Irileth left took large steps towards Farengar's office, ignoring the guards who seemed to avoid her gaze. The worm better be in.

* * *

Irileth marched away from Whiterun. Farengar had gone. Balgruuf had sent her – against her explicit wishes – to get him. To alleviate the Dunmer's concern, the Jarl had agreed to ask two Companions to hold guard over him instead. Not ideal, but they could at least fight well.

She had to praise her guards in this situation, though. They had kept excellent tabs on where the mage had gone, and she could easily find his traces at the watchtower.

It was halfway through the afternoon when she heard a roar. One she had heard before. Divines, _another_ dragon? She crouched and searched the sky, finding no sign yet of the enormous monster. After some time, she heard another roar and a beam of light shot from the ground into the sky. An enormous black dragon, its body covered in scales and spikes, hovered above the ground.

What was that thing? It was even larger and more terrifying than the dragon defeated at the watchtower.

More importantly, she hoped that Farengar wasn't there. The mage would want to see what she herself was seeing. Her red eyes searched once more, this time for any movement on the ground. Some way before her, two figures crouched as well, watching the black dragon and the beam of light. She recognised the cloaked figure, and next to him an armoured Redguard whom she recognised as the Dragonborn.

Damn it, mage! Irileth cursed in her own tongue, the words more suited to her mood of the moment.

What happened next defied her every expectation. The ground shook and from the ancient mound that bathed in the eerie light, a dragon skeleton rose, its flesh slowly materialising out of thin air.

How many of the damn beasts were there?

The black dragon spoke in an earth shaking rumble, with words she didn't understand, then flew off, leaving the other dragon right before them. Stealth had never been her strongest point, which the newly resurrected creature exemplified by approaching her, instead of Farengar or the Dragonborn.

It roared, flew off, circled around and then approached Irileth. She drew her blade, determined to not die without a fight. She heard a voice call her name in the distance, but the dragon had reached her, its landing almost throwing her off balance and drowning out all other sound. She braced, expecting flames to hit her, but instead an icy wind blew from the creature's mouth. The cold cut through her skin and stiffened her limbs, and she cried out.

A bolt of lightning shot from somewhere to her left, and when she carefully turned her head, she saw Farengar casting his spells at the dragon. Next to him, the Dragonborn shot arrows at the beast.

A _frost_ dragon? Irileth shook off the chill with difficulty, approaching the dragon with her blade in one hand, a spell ready in the other.

"You're an insolent, reckless and unworthy worm of a mage," Irileth snapped, drawing significant satisfaction of making each and every word as incendiary as possible. She kicked against the skeletal snout of the now dead frost dragon, her limbs still a little cold and stiff from the icy breath of the beast.

* * *

It had died, finally, and fittingly through the hand of the Dragonborn. The same thing had happened as with the fire dragon: after death its flesh had simply disappeared, while the Dragonborn – a Redguard man of some stature – seemingly absorbed the dragon into himself.

More importantly, though, she had caught up with the mage.

"And you should have kept your distance." Farengar inspected the dragon. "He had a name, then?" he asked the Dragonborn.

"Nahagliiv," the Dragonborn answered, breathing heavily.

Irileth's anger rose. "Does the safety of the Jarl mean nothing, then? Jarl Balgruuf expects you back in Dragonsreach, Farengar. And _I_ expect a reason for defying my direct orders."

"Since when does a housecarl order a mage around?"

The Dunmer approached him, grabbed him by his robes and pushed him against the skeletal remains. She stared at him, her red eyes flashing anger and her breath hot against his face. "Your little adventure could have dire consequences. Where did that black dragon go? Is Whiterun next, perhaps?"

Again, her intimidation did not seem to have the effect she intended. Farengar matched her stare, his eyes defying hers once again. His muscles barely even tensed under the pressure she put on him. "Yet it didn't, as it flew off towards Markarth. And not only has this Dragonborn killed yet another dragon, I found out more about these creatures than I could have otherwise."

She wished to hit that smug face of his. And that this dragon did not lie dead at their feet, but rather soared, if only to make a point. "I hope it was worth it, mage." She spit out the last word like a curse, her low Dunmer voice adding to its intensity.

"I'm sure it will be hard for you to believe me," Farengar said, once again sarcastic, "but it was." He pushed Irileth back. "I didn't see you make plans, devise strategies. I saw you doing _nothing_. Do you think training your guards more will help when you don't know _how_ to train them?"

Irileth took a step back, surprised by Farengar's sudden honest criticism. "Training with the bow is not without reason."

"But is it enough? You don't know. You argued with me every single time I proposed something, and every single time you told me not to pursue it. Argued me about the dangers and about the safety of Whiterun." Farengar rolled his eyes, taking a step forward. "You couldn't find it to trust a Nord mage, could you, Dunmer?"

"And you couldn't trust a Dunmer, could you?" Irileth retorted, but in her thoughts cursed at the possible truth in his words. Her retort didn't have the sting she had wished to give it.

"And what do you do here? Balgruuf apparently trusts in his safety enough to send you after me. If he does, where does that leave you?"

She could feel the breath of the mage now on her face. The fire in her eyes returned. "That leaves me away from where I swore I would be."

"Who is with him then? Your guards?"

"Two Companions," she admitted reluctantly.

Farengar nodded, as if agreeing with the choice. "This little adventure was worth it, and you will see why."

"For your sake, I hope I do."

The Redguard cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but we should get going. I would sleep in my bed tonight and not on the cold, hard ground."

Irileth and Farengar stared at each other a moment longer, unwilling to be the first to break away. But when the Dragonborn started back towards Whiterun, the two started walking and postponed their next discussion until back in the warm hall of Dragonsreach.


End file.
